


The Philistines

by dracogotgame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Flirting, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Humor, M/M, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2019-03-29 09:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13924038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracogotgame/pseuds/dracogotgame
Summary: Harry and Draco are not taking the Christmas Play seriously





	The Philistines

**Author's Note:**

> [Originally published December 5, 2013](http://dracogotgame.livejournal.com/67258.html)

“Okay, let’s try it again.” 

  
Blaise nodded firmly and took another look at the script before turning to the ‘actors’ waffling about on stage. His leading man ignored him in favour of making faces at the mirror and Blaise scowled. “Draco, pay attention!” he snapped.  
  
Draco abandoned the mirror and raised an eyebrow at him. “I was practicing my Scrooge Face,” he informed Blaise snottily. “You have to work to look appropriately contemptuous and disdainful.”  
  
“No, really?” Potter retorted, grinning cheekily from behind his make-shift desk. At least he was in position, Blaise noted. Thank Merlin for small mercies. “I would have pegged you for a natural.”  
  
“Sod off, Potter,” Draco shot back with a smirk. Blaise rolled his eyes and tried not to feel too nauseated. Those two were so not fooling anyone. The coy glances and flirting had started early on in the year, ever since they’d all come back to Hogwarts for the Eighth Year and Christmas had only made it worse. Now, they could barely keep their hands off each other. Blaise almost wished they’d go back to hexes and jinxes. That way, maybe he’d be able to get this sodding play off the ground.  
  
The trials of a genius director were not for the masses to understand.  
  
“Moving on,” he bit out, muttering under his breath as he perused the script again. “So the next scene is in Scrooge’s office. It’s cold and melancholy and there’s a sense of malcontent in the air…”  
  
“So, it’s the Slytherin common room,” Weasley contributed, eliciting sniggers from the assembled crew.  
  
Blaise had had it up to  _here_. “Can it, Weasley! I’m setting the scene, okay? And  _why_  aren’t you in costume?”   
  
“I’m in stage management.”  
  
“Well, then go manage the stage!” Honestly, was  _everyone_ out to sabotage this play?  
  
Weasley retreated with a snigger and Blaise glared at his back before turning back to his amused actors. “Right, you two. The only light in the room is a single candle burning at the window. Now, Scrooge—that’s you, Draco…”  
  
“I know my character’s name, Blaise,” Draco sniped.  
  
Blaise ignored him. “Scrooge is complaining because his clerk, Bob Cratchit…”  
  
“Me,” Potter prompted obligingly.  
  
Blaise took a deep calming breath that didn’t help at all. “ _Wants_  a day off for Christmas,” he finished through clenched teeth. “So can we please,  _please_ just do this one simple scene so we can all…”  
  
Once again he was interrupted; this time, by an exaggerated ghostly moan and the rattling of chains.  
  
“Wooooo...I am the ghost of Jacob Marley,” a ragged, grey figure proclaimed, shuffling up on stage and flailing in a manner that was obviously supposed to pass for terrifying. “Fear meee…”  
  
“Not  _now_ , Theo!” Blaise spat. “You’re not on until the second act!”  
  
Theo scowled and shuffled off the stage again, grumbling about philistines. Blaise prayed for patience and turned back to Draco and Potter, who had apparently given up all attempts at taking this seriously anymore. They were leaning against each other, laughing like maniacs. Potter’s arm was around Draco’s shoulder, holding him up as the blond staggered into his chest.  
  
“Salazar’s tits, you two!” Blaise snarled. “At least  _try_  to behave like real actors! Draco, get your arse in character and tell Potter he can’t have a day off for Christmas!”  
  
“What’s my motivation?”  
  
**“I’ll deck you if you don’t is what’s your motivation!”**  
  
“Fine, fine,” Draco replied, rolling his eyes. “Oi, Potter. I mean, Cratchit. You can’t go home for Christmas, for some reason or the other.”  
  
“Well, that sucks.”  
  
“I know. Get over it.”  
  
“No, I meant your acting. It really sucks.”  
  
They started giggling like immature children  _again_. Blaise was livid by now.  **“Will you two stop faffing about and take this stupid play seriously?!”**  
  
“Okay, okay,” Potter placated. “I’ll do my line first, all right?” He turned to Draco with an appropriately earnest expression. “A day off, if it’s quite convenient, sir.”  
  
“It’s  _not_  convenient,” Draco replied, apparently reverting back into character. Blaise deflated slightly and watched them intently. They weren’t half bad…maybe this could work, after all.  
  
“And why is that, sir?” Potter asked.   
  
Draco seemed to be considering his next line.Then his grey eyes glinted mischievously and he regarded Potter with a sly smirk. “Well, I had plans for you here.”  
  
Wait,  _what?_  
  
“Oi!” Blaise sputtered indignantly. “That’s not the…”  
  
Apparently, Potter had decided to play along. His lips twitched with restrained amusement and he sauntered over to Draco, stopping just shy of touching him. “Oh? And what plans would those be?” he asked huskily.  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow and let his hand trail down Potter’s arm, wrapping around his neck in a loose embrace. “I could tell you, but I’d much rather show you,” he replied, leaning in and brushing their lips together.   
  
“Draco!” Blaise howled. “That is  _not_  your line!”  
  
“I’m improvising,” Draco retorted with a shameless grin.   
  
“I think he’s doing a brilliant job,” Potter defended, quite obviously fighting for a straight face.  
  
“Why thank you, Potter. Now, you were saying?”  
  
Potter laughed and pulled him over. “I was saying perhaps we should continue practicing our lines in private. How about it, Malfoy? Up for an  _intense_  rehearsal?”  
  
“No!” Blaise snapped. “Say no and get back to the play!”  
  
“Yes,” Draco smirked. “After you, fellow actor of the stage.”  
  
And just like that they took off, leaving Blaise behind, gaping furiously. “No!” he shouted. “Damn it, you two! We’re still in rehearsal! Get your arses back on this stage and…”  
  
“Wooo…I am the ghost of Jacob Marley. Fear me, mortals! Fear meeee…”  
  
Oh, fuck it. Blaise sighed and tossed the script away, calling it quits.   
  
“Cut!”


End file.
